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They had not spent a single night apart since returning to Nevarra, falling into the same bed and rising to the same sun, day in and day out. Even when they spent their days apart — Emmrich and Rook returning to their separate duties as Watchers — the evening was theirs alone.
Until tonight.
It was tradition, someone insisted at some point to Rook — to keep the couple in separate wedding suites the night before the big day. Bullshit, she thought, knowing the nervous roil in her gut could have been soothed by one person and one person only.
But her friends tried — Neve settled on the enormous bed next to her, holding Rook's fingers steady as she brushed the nail polish on with an expert hand.
“Stop fidgeting.”
“Sorry.”
Rook quit bouncing her leg, curling and flexing her toes instead as a distraction. Not enough, a restless energy thrumming under her skin, refusing to calm.
“I would suggest coffee, but I don't think that would help. I could get us some snacks,” Lucanis said from somewhere behind her.
“No.” Rook probably looked as miserable as she felt. “I think I'm gonna throw up.”
“Mierda. Please don't.”
“No promises.”
Neve gave a low laugh. “I'd appreciate a warning first.” Then she squinted at Rook's nails, assessing. Satisfied, Rook felt the press of Neve's magic, drying them in an instant. “Now the other one.”
Rook nodded, obediently offering her other hand.
Without looking up from her work, Neve said, “You know, you should eat something. At least to settle your stomach.”
“That's hilarious coming from you. Half your blood must made of fried fish,” Rook muttered.
“Hey, at least I had dinner, unlike someone.” Neve chuckled. “But fair enough. I'll give you that.”
Lucanis gave a hum before offering, “I can go get something light. Wait here.” He disappeared, the soft click of the door the only indication he was gone.
The silence stayed comfortable, Neve finishing the last of Rook's nails, and Rook trying not to throw up and waste all her hard work.
Rook's mind wandered.
She wished Emmrich were here. She wished they were bundled together under the blankets and she could fall asleep listening to his heart. He could bring her tea and read to her until their eyes were too heavy to keep open, and all would be right in the world.
Why did they even agree to this? Rook figured it would be fun.
Stupid.
“Excited?”
“Yes, of course,” Rook replied automatically.
“Then what's the reason for…” Neve gestured toward her face. “All of this?”
“It's… nothing.”
Neve hummed, turning Rook’s hand around and squeezing it, keeping her voice gentle. “You know… if you don't want to do this, if you're not ready, Emmrich wouldn't be upset if you called it all off.”
“No! It's not that.” Rook was adamant. If there was one thing she would never regret, it would be marrying Emmrich. There was no greater pleasure in the world. But still, she sighed, trying to find the right words without sounding so foolish, so… juvenile. “I just… miss him. I don't know when I got so clingy, it hasn't even been a full day. But I wish he were here. It's kinda pathetic, I know.”
“It's cute.” Neve squeezed her hand again. “I'm sure Emmrich is thinking the same thing.”
“You think so?”
“Trust me.”
The two of them shared a smile. Neve always just seemed to know what to say.
But the moment was broken with the sound of loud stomping outside the door, Rook swiveling her head toward it.
“I can't take it anymore. This is vashedan.” Taash's voice was muffled before the stomping started up again, closer and closer. They burst into the room with a thoroughly unimpressed look. “Rook. Deal with him. You both smell miserable as fuck.”
“What?” Rook could only stare in confusion.
Neve let go of her hand, pressing her shoulder to get her off the bed. “Told you.”
In lieu of an answer, Taash jerked their head up and said, “Emmrich. Upstairs balcony. Move it already.”
Rook didn't need to be told twice.
And there he was — just like Taash said. Sitting alone on the balcony, staring into the distance, occasionally sighing like a lover forlorn. Picture of misery, indeed.
The chair across from him was empty. “That seat taken, handsome?”
His head snapped in her direction, a soft gasp escaping his lips.
“Darling,” he breathed, like he couldn't believe she was there, before abruptly standing, the chair's legs scratching against the stone floor.
Emmrich was in front of her in two wide strides, cupping her cheeks, eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Oh, my darling.” He pressed their noses together, skin chilly from the cold night air, but breath warm on her skin. “How I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“Let's never do that again, yes? Not if we can help it.”
“Never.”
They sealed the promise with a kiss — who was to say which one of them moved first — but she was pressed tight against Emmrich’s chest, their lips moving in sync, arms wrapped around the other. Rook's heart finally settled, satisfied in the knowledge that the rest of their lives would be just like this.